


he is here. this is real.

by tolvsmol



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, a lot of introspective andrew, and in neil, finding comfort in the present, realizing he's here and trying to believe his reality, still not entirely sure what this is, which is neil and their apartment and their cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9957374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tolvsmol/pseuds/tolvsmol
Summary: andrew wakes up from a nightmare and clings to reality. or the one where andrew is hanging by the edge and neil helps him climb back to safety.





	

Here he is. With his back against the wall, face turned towards Neil, here he is. There’s a cat in between them, and one at Andrew’s feet, the window must not be closed all the way because cold, biting wisps of air hit Andrew’s face, but here he is. Neil’s eyes are closed, and it’s a rare occasion when Andrew gets to see him like this. He looks, for all intents and purposes, like he shouldn’t be here. Fast asleep he looks a lot less like the smart mouth Andrew knows and a lot more like someone who should never have been with The Foxes to start with, but here he is.

He is here.

Pushing the nightmares and the terrors far, far away in the depths of that dark place, Andrew slid his fingers through Neil’s hair, letting the strands slip. He is here and this is real. The room is dimly lit, casting a shadow on Neil’s hair, and Andrew memorizes it all. The way a few strands fall on his forehead. The way some of it curls over his ear. The way it feels so _tangible_ in Andrew’s hand. Because it is. It’s real. His other hand is scratching behind the cat’s ears because the cat, too, is real. All of this is real and he is here.

He leans over Neil as quietly as he can, but it’s not silent, and Neil’s eyes snap open. Andrew grabs hold on the cigarettes and the lighter, lighting one up and putting it between his lips, head on the pillow. The acrid smell that surrounds him immediately is enough to steady him the slightest bit. This is real. He feels the mattress shift, he knows Neil is looking at him, he can feel it. And he lets it happen. Because this is real and right now he needs this. He is not in a bed he doesn’t want to be in, touching someone he wants to set on fire, pressed under a body that feels like a dead weight. He is here. With Neil. He is here with the boy who was supposed to be a pipe dream.

But he is real. Neil is real. Andrew takes a drag, blows out the smoke, and turns on his side to face Neil. Those blue eyes are real. The scars on his cheeks are real. The burn marks are real.

This is real.

He feels Neil’s hand brush against his own, just barely, a silent question – because it might always be yes for Neil, and he rarely asks the words, but he still never touches Andrew without being absolutely certain. And because he needs to remind himself that this is real, that he is here, Andrew lets their fingers tangle. Sir Fat Cat wakes up and fits himself against Neil’s chest, purring quietly. Andrew lets the sound sooth him, remind him that he is here. Neil’s thumb digs into Andrew’s wrist and that touch grounds Andrew more than any number of cigarettes ever could. Andrew drags his gaze back to Neil’s eyes, letting his heart skip a beat, letting himself feel that because this is real. Neil is real. The drugs are gone, that manic haze is gone, and Neil is still real. He’s realer than ever and Andrew is right here next to him.

“What was it?” Neil asks, because he knows. Somehow, after all this time, he’s learned to read Andrew better than Andrew would like to admit. Andrew just stares at Neil, at those eyes that speak a thousand truths Andrew would never say out loud, and he sees understanding as it dawns on Neil. “You’re here,” Neil says. And Andrew clings to each word because it’s true. He is here. “Whatever you saw, that’s in the past. This is where you are now.”

This is where Andrew is now. Next to a boy who should’ve disappeared with the drugs. Next to cats that he never wanted and still doesn’t understand.

“Tell me something,” Neil says. Andrew doesn’t like the tone of his voice. He knows what kinds of words follow that tone. It’s been long enough. Neil crosses their ankles together. “When did you know?”

Andrew doesn’t answer immediately. He simply stares at Neil and wonders how this happened to him. How someone managed to take apart every single wall he put up. How someone managed to unravel him like loosely tangled ribbon. How someone managed to make him feel like he’s falling all the damn fucking time. How someone managed to give him a safe landing and make that falling worthwhile.

Then, finally, he says, “Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

“Humor me just this once.”

And, really, what does Andrew have to lose. He has already laid his heart bare for Neil many times. So he says, “At the airport.”

This is news to Neil because of the quirk in his brow, the squint in his eyes. “That was literally the second the second time you saw me.”

“First without the meds,” Andrew corrects him. He’d taken one look at Neil, felt his heartbeat stutter, and he’d known that this skittish boy would be trouble. And he hasn’t been wrong yet. “There was a reason I didn’t hand you off to Renee.”

“You liked me from day one,” Neil says, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Andrew doesn’t agree or disagree. “Perhaps. Doesn’t change the fact that I hated you afterwards. Still do.”

“I know. I can live with it.” Neil picks up the cat and places him on his pillow, then scoots closer to Andrew. He lifts their hands up in the air, fingers still linked together, and even in the dim light Andrew catches the outline of the key inked into Neil’s wrist. Neil presses his lips to Andrew’s fingers and Andrew knows when Neil’s fingers slip into his hair, the key lines up with the keyhole tattooed on the back of Andrew’s neck. “This is enough.” And something in Andrew slips into place.

“Yeah?”

“Always.”

So Andrew grips Neil’s chin in his hands, maybe hard enough to hurt, but when Neil doesn’t break, when he doesn’t dissipate from Andrew’s fingers, there’s a sense of relief. Relief and exhilaration. This is real. Neil is real. His hands hover over Andrew’s head, so he says, “Hair is fine.” And Neil’s fingers slip into his hair, tugging lightly before putting his mouth on Andrew’s, smiling wide enough for Andrew to feel it. And for now, it’s enough to put aside the nightmares, to put aside everything that isn’t here.

Because _this_ is real. And Andrew is here.


End file.
